


Colleagues Nothing More

by AlexTheShipper



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, John's kinda an assholebut he means well, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sherloc's mind palace, resolved angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 09:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2577203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheShipper/pseuds/AlexTheShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John said they were simply colleagues a slightly less logical person would have thought the room heard their heart break. Instead Sherlock focused on the case and avoided painful daydreams. John for his part avoided his feelings as a whole. Can these idiot's figure out their feelings or not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Colleagues to Friends

 

"Colleagues not friends." Sherlock mentally placed the statement in a room filled with evidence that John didn't love him, would never love him. The mental room contained every denial John made about being gay and every time he called Sherlock a colleague. This new piece of information hurt the most. This was the first denial of even friendship, the first sign that Sherlock couldn't have even that.

 

Sherlock took note of the aching in his chest, his heartbeat sped up, and his throat felt tight. This information was cataloged in a room labeled feelings about John and he mentally padlocked the door. The padlock as a way to keep the thoughts locked away had seemed wholly ineffective but something needed to be done and for now that was all he could think of.

 

The thoughts invaded every part of his mind palace and he tried to immerse himself in the work. He spoke normally, he deducted, he focused. Despite this eventually the case was solved and he was left to his thoughts, left alone with his dreams.

 

He found himself back in the room about his feelings standing next to the door labeled 'reasons John deserves better' and for some reason he entered. He had compiled quite a list for himself.

 

Sherlock knew he was a genius, he knew he came off as arrogant, and rude. He was fully aware that he sucked at normal human interactions. How could he not be when Donavon called him freak every day and people insisted on pointing out his lack of friends at seemingly every opportunity? People called him heartless, crude, and psychopathic. Sherlock could never be what John, terribly heterosexual John, needed let alone wanted. He was too broken. He did weird experiments in coffee cups and kept human heads in the refrigerator. He was weird and awkward but John had moved in called him brilliant. John had, completely unintentionally, given Sherlock hope for the first time in years. John had given Sherlock just the slightest hope that he could be loved despite what people always said about him.

 

He'd long ago become immune to hateful words. Having John near him, caring what John thought, that made the words sting again. He didn't want John to think he was a freak or a loser. He didn't want John to know his codename was The Virgin or that most people expected him to commit a murder at some point. He was waiting for the day John would say it, maybe with a laugh or a sardonic smile. John would call him a freak, tell him to piss off, John would stop calling him brilliant. Part of him desperately hoped for the day his friend would defend him, but John wasn't his friend. John had spelled it out quite clearly. They were colleagues nothing more.

…

“Colleagues not friends.” John spoke calmly trying to ignore the cold sharp pain in his chest when he thought about Sherlock’s previous words ‘I don’t have friends.’ Despite the harsh words John still wanted Sherlock to correct him. He knew it was hopeless craving Sherlock’s affection’s, but logic wasn’t in play here.

 

Sherlock spoke again, he continued to work, but that light in his eyes, the excited curiosity was missing. Sherlock kept his attention firmly away from John as he spoke coldly about the case. The case went on and Sherlock kept himself strangely distant from John. It made him nervous especially when Sherlock refused to eat and as far as John could tell he hadn’t slept in the last four days. It was hard to force Sherlock to do anything, but he was pushy enough with the food to make sure he ate at least one meal daily. He still found Sherlock drinking coffee at four AM and refusing to sleep even after the case ended.

…

Sherlock knew he was worrying John and despite enjoying the attention he felt bad. It was nice knowing John cared but seeing him constantly worried about Sherlock and upset was, upsetting, but he couldn’t sleep. Most people avoid sleep to avoid nightmares, but Sherlock was avoiding something far more pleasant. He appeared to have developed a habit of dreaming of John. Their lives were nearly exactly the same, except John loved him back. Most people would love this dreams, but Sherlock hated them. Even his subconscious was teasing him about his attraction to John. Real life became more painful with every dream. Waking up alone seemed to cause physical pain in his chest. He’d been up for just over five days when he began to get delirious. The affects were very similar to being drugged and he found his inhibitions lowered.

 

“John, what I said before is still true. I don’t have friends. I have you, friend, singular.” It sounded pathetic even to his own delirious ears and was made even more so by the way he passed out immediately following the statement.

…

“I don’t have friends. I have you, friend, singular,” John felt the wall he’d built up to protect himself fracture. Sherlock had called him a friend. Sherlock cared about him. He feels a warm blush flush through his body. He waited for Sherlock’s deductions about his blushing, but instead found his friend- just thinking it made him smile- passed out while curled up in his chair. He covered him in a blanket and smiled running a hand through Sherlock’s hair.

 

“Friends.” He just hoped he could refrain from pushing for more and subsequently pushing Sherlock away.

…

“John?” Sherlock had felt his eyes close and suddenly John was gone. He wandered through the flat nervously unsure if this was reality,

“Sherlock there you are. I missed you today sweetheart.” Dream then. Dream John leaned over to kiss him and the swell of panic in his gut caused him to yank back accidently pulling himself back awake.

 

“No!” He bolted upright hands shaking. It had been a long time since the urge for drugs had been this bad, but fuck what he wouldn’t give for a high right now. He grabbed the coffee off the table and drank it quickly before going to make another.

 

“Sherlock?” The concern in John’s voice made him freeze. His erratic behavior was hurting John. He needed to calm down. “Sherlock, are you okay?”

_Of course not._ “Yes, of course. I’m fine John.” _I need you. I hurt._ John didn’t appear to believe him, but he refrained from asking questions and that was good enough.

 

“Eat” John handed him a tub of takeout and Sherlock ate trying to smile reassuringly. John would take care of him and he’d be okay. “What was the nightmare about?” Sherlock tensed away from the question.

…

Sherlock had seemed relaxed before the question and watching Sherlock shut himself down made John feel incredibly guilty. He wished he could pull the words back, but it was too late.

 

“Not a nightmare.” His apology caught in his throat as he lost himself in confusion Sherlock fleeing the room before he can speak. The conversation was clearly over and John was left with his thoughts. _Why wasn’t Sherlock sleeping? What did dreams have to do with it? Did John do something wrong? How does one deduce Sherlock Holmes?_


	2. On machines and feelings

 

 

 

Sherlock wasn’t avoiding John exactly he was just avoiding questions and if once every few nights he woke up feeling alone, well that was his business, John had refrained from asking about the dreams since the first time and Sherlock was relieved, He hadn’t thought up an explanation and he tried to distract himself through work. It was still easy to deduct on only a couple hours of sleep. John however still tried to make sure he was eating and sleeping, it was wonderful. In fact John often sat on the couch with Sherlock while he worked and he often woke up pressed against the good doctor’s side.

…

Sherlock had once again fallen asleep on his shoulder and John couldn’t resist pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his temple. Sherlock seemed to stir and John tried to look interested in the television. It was quiet and pleasant.

 

The next day they found a new case, two young children had been kidnapped and the clock was ticking. Sherlock remained focused on the case using small traces of chemicals, his homeless network, and what appeared to be intuition but was probably some bizarre factually based deductions.

 

“It’s obvious she’s in the warehouses John do keep up.”

 

“Yes the ones in the fishing district.”

 

“Of course there are three of them John, don’t be an idiot.”

“No the boy is here too.” They found the younger girl, but one of the three kidnappers had managed to slip out the back taking the boy with him. John found himself talking to Sherlock before he questioned the girl.

 

“Just try not to scare her, she’s traumatized and you can be intimidating. Please, just try not to be yourself.”

…

Sherlock almost had it figured out the third man, Marcelo, had disappeared at the last second but he could only be in one of four places. He needed to know more and the girl would help. He had tuned John’s lecture out as he pondered the case, but he still heard it.

 

“Please, just try not to be yourself.” He nearly broke apart at those words.

 

“This is my personality John, I can’t just turn it on and off.” He refused to meet John’s eyes, unwilling to give his newest bully the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt him.

 

“Just be gentle.” John’s voice was softer, but Sherlock simply pushed past him and into the room. Despite what John seemed to think Sherlock wasn’t an idiot, yelling at the girl would only serve to send her into hysterics.

 

“Hello Abby. I know you’re scared, but I need your help okay?” She nodded. “Can you tell me about the men that took you and your brother?” Her voice shook as she spoke, but she was quick and detailed in her speaking.

“Thank you Abby you’ve been a huge help. Officer Donavon will look after you now.” John gaped at him. “What?” The warm tone he had used with Abby was gone and instead he sounded cold and angry.

 

“You were nice to her.” Sherlock pretended John’s shock didn’t hurt him.

 

“Being anything less would have sent her into hysterics John. Go back to the flat I need to check a lead.” The taxi Sherlock had jumped into pulled away before John could protest. He knew where the boy and kidnapper were and sent the information to Lestrade before directing the cabbie to Bart’s.

…

Sherlock hadn’t looked at him since he’d said it and John realized that everyone treated Sherlock like a machine, someone who didn’t feel, and they insulted him. Until now John had managed to avoid doing just that and proved to Sherlock that despite his previous beliefs friends could be of value. Perhaps that trust was broken now. He’d managed to hurt his best friend and now Sherlock was gone.

 

“Taxi!” He went back to the flat to wait for Sherlock and stumbled into Mrs. Hudson.

 

“Hello Dear, are you alright?” _Was it that obvious?_ “You look a little down.”

 

“I’m okay Mrs. Hudson.” She looked at him as if he were stupid.

 

“Have you and Sherlock had a row? What did he say this time?” John felt indigent on Sherlock’s behalf before he realized he had made the same assumptions repeatedly.

 

“It’s my fault Mrs. Hudson.” She glared at him.

 

“Well in that case you better fix it. You’re his best friend John.” Neither of them had heard Sherlock enter and his voice startled them.

 

“I assure you Mrs. Hudson, John does not consider me his best friend. Like most people he views me as more mechanical than human.” He sounded cold and detached as he breezed past them and up into the flat. When John turned to Mrs. Hudson she only glared at him and pointed after Sherlock.

…

“Sherlock?” He ignored the tentative question pretending to be focused on the sample under the microscope. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you would be offended.” Sherlock wanted to roll his eyes. “That’s no excuse, I know. It’s just, everyone else always says it why does it only matter when I do?” John seemed pleading when Sherlock looked up.

 

“I don’t let anyone say things like that without embarrassing them publicly.” John looked ready to speak again and Sherlock raised a hand. “and the only reason I didn’t do the same to you is because you’re my friend even if I’m not yours. I’m in love with you, you gigantic idiot of course your opinion bloody matters to me.” He didn’t give John enough time to pull himself together and reject him instead rushed out of the room.

…

“I’m in love with you.” John didn’t hear the rest. He felt light headed and Sherlock was gone. John wanted to follow him his heart beating too rapidly. He limped slightly as he walked toward Sherlock’s room.

 

“Sher?” His voice broke. “I’m sorry.” There was no response and John refrained from pushing the door open instead sitting down beside it to wait for Sherlock. “Please Sherlock?” He again received no answer and prepared to wait it out. Sherlock may be stubborn, but eventually he’d come out. John just had to stay awake. It was uncomfortable and after an hour John was stretched out beside the door and drifting off.

…

Sherlock listened to his breathing even out and waited. John was military the odds of him not waking up were very slim but the odds of Sherlock managing not to forgive him were equally as slim especially If John was sleeping on the floor for him. He cracked the door open nervously and John leapt to his feet.

 

“Wha? Who there?” John shifted back toward the wall.

 

“You’re alright John, it’s just me.” _Just your idiot friend._

 

“Sherlock? Can I come in I’m tired.” John wanted to stay in his bed. For a moment he was shocked and then he realized John just wanted to lie down on something soft, he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as Sherlock. He tugged his friend into the room and pushed him down onto the bed.

 

“Goodnight John.” John sat up grabbing his wrist.

 

“I’m sorry, please stay.” Sherlock knows he can’t refuse John and he allows himself to be pulled in. “Sherlock I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay John, sleep well we can talk in the morning.” He strokes through John’s hair as the man falls asleep head resting on Sherlock’s chest.

…

John blinks awake listening to the soothing sound of a human heart beat. Sherlock tenses beneath him hand stilling in his hair.

 

“Hi Sherlock.” The hand disappears altogether.

 

“Good morning John.” John looks up nervously.

 

“Sherlock, I’m so sorry.” Sherlock doesn’t meet his eyes. “Please, I never meant to hurt you.” Sherlock winces.

 

“You did though.” John sighs burying his face against Sherlock’s neck. “I don’t blame you. I know I’m not normal I’m sorry I got angry, I just-“ Sherlock cuts himself off.

 

“I shouldn’t have Sherlock.” John pleads for Sherlock to believe him. “I should not have hurt you. You aren’t normal,” Sherlock tenses under him, and John rushes to finish. “but that’s what I love about you.”

 

“John.” Sherlock sounds warning. “Please get off me.”

 

“No. you aren’t running away from me again. Please talk to me.” Sherlock settles back into the bed and John presses a tentative kiss to his forehead. “Thank you. Now listen up. You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and despite what everyone thinks you do care. I love you.”

 

“Don’t.” John stops, startled. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

…

John stares at him challengingly.

 

“You of all people know I mean it. Check my pulse Sherlock, look at my eyes, observe, and use that big brain of yours.” John forces his chin up. “I love you.” Sherlock realizes he means it and suddenly John is kissing him.

 

“I love you.” Sherlock melts into his arms. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering a third chapter with smut. Not sure yet we'll see how this one goes.


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